WELCOME

Welcome to my blog. If you live in Surrey and birding is your obsession (to get out of bed at some ridiculously early time of the morning, no matter what the weather, to go and look at birds isn't normal behaviour, believe me) and you're still a bit of a novice (like me) then, hopefully, this blog is for you.

Tuesday, 28 November 2017

It has been good to get out, even if briefly, this past week for the odd spot of local birding. November has proved to have been an exceptional month for Surrey birders and those on the borders.

For some reason November is often a month to savour for us land-locked enthusiasts and none more so than this year.

The Hawfinch invasion has kept on giving, while on my local patch a showy Jack Snipe was joined by a second for a while down on the Moors. Also featuring at Holmethorpe has been an ever-increasing finch flock, seen along the hedgerow between Glebe Lake and Nutfield Church, next to a field with a failed barley crop. In among the 120 or more Chaffinch have been up to 15 Brambling, along with one Lesser Redpoll.

A pair of Goosander head off after visiting Mercers Lake one morning

Earlier in the month (15th) three Goosander appeared on Mercer's Lake. All were in partial eclipse and while one flew off, I managed to get down to the lake to see the other two before they also set off west. A patch lifer!

Over at Beddington, David Campbell and Magnus Andersson found a Twite, a really rare patch and Surrey visitor. The last one seen at Beddington was in 1991, with Surrey’s most recent in 2004.

Then, of course, further up the M25 there has been Staines Reservoir and the Shorelark that has turned out to be a very rare sub-species, the American Horned Lark.

The Horned Lark eluded me for a couple of days, in as much I drove past the Staines junction on the M25 on both Saturday and Sunday mornings and had no time to take a detour for a look.

I made time yesterday, however, and managed to get up to The Res before the light disappeared and, thankfully, a couple of visiting birders put me on to the American Horned Lark, which was feeding on the west banking of the north basin. It was distant and too far for a photo, but at least I managed to get a half reasonable view of the rare visitor.

Eventually I was the only person on the causeway when another birder arrived, Robin Dryden, who I discovered is on the Berkshire Records Committee. As he arrived the heavens began to open, and in typical Staines Reservoir fashion, the wind picked up and it became bitingly cold. I managed to steer Robin on to the bird before it was too unpleasant for either of us to stick around.

The favoured Parrot Crossbill pine tree

Part of the gang

It was while at The Res that I heard about the Parrot Crossbills just over the border at Wishmoor Bottom. I'd seen some of these smashing birds four years ago at Hemsted Forest in Kent, but this was too good an opportunity to miss, so I travelled over to Camberley this morning.

After a 20 minute walk followed by another 15 minute wait, the flock of 16 Parrot Crossbill appeared, with a couple of Common Crossbill, and landed in a pine tree close by.

Feeding time

During an enjoyable 40 minutes in the sunshine, along with plenty of other onlookers, including Robin who turned up a little while later, I watched these birds set about snipping cones off the branches and then expertly feeding on the pine nuts.

Male Brambling

On the way home I managed to get over to Nutfield Church to see the finch flock for the first time before it got dark and found a few Brambling and the Lesser Redpoll. The local birding group, predominantly Gordon Hay, are keeping their eyes peeled just in case a Twite shows up. You never know.

Tuesday, 17 October 2017

Irrupting bird species is a bit of a thing. It happens most years when one species or another decides it is going to migrate en masse across the country and birders en masse get very excited.

In recent years we've had irrupting Waxwing during the winter of 2010-11, then last year it was Yellow-browed Warblers. This past week it has been Hawfinch.

One of the most popular species of finch, the stunning Hawfinch is both alluring and elusive. And it can behave in mysterious ways. In March 2013 Steve Gale found an amazing flock of more than 100 Hawfinch in Juniper Bottom near Box Hill – the stuff of legend. They were like a freak of nature, there were so many of them and they arrived completely out of the blue. No-one could have predicted their arrival.

This current irruption began last week and as the days have progressed it has gathered momentum.

I went up to Headley Heath on Sunday morning and saw very little, whereas six were seen just down the road to the west of me at Juniper Bottom. At the same time to the east, on my local patch at Holmethorpe, Gordon Hay and Ian Kehl saw one fly over the
Water Colour complex – it was only the second site record.

Steve Gale got his first sighting on Headley Heath last week and followed up with
five on his garden list as he vis-migged yesterday morning.

Local birders were seeing Hawfinch all over the place. The only local birder who had yet to see one was predictably me.

Storm Orphelia sky at Foreness Point

Rock Pipit

Wheatear

The following morning I was in Margate to take my mum to a hospital appointment and managed to have a quick walk early in the morning along Foreness Point under the Sahara dust-laden Storm Ophelia sky, where I saw a Rock Pipit, a Wheatear and a couple of Stonechat. But no Hawfinch flew overhead.

Three of the six Hawfinch on Headley Heath this afternoon

Then this afternoon Annie and I returned to Headley Heath again for a stroll and all was very quiet. We were walking back to the car when I saw three birds land on top of an oak to my right. They looked quite big but I couldn't make out what they were – until I got my bins on them. HAWFINCH!

I called out to Annie and managed to get a decent view of them for about a minute before they flew off west, along with three others that must have been obscured on the other side of the tree. I reckon they may have been the six originally seen at Juniper Bottom on Sunday.

Wherever they came from it was still an unexpected surprise. It certainly made my day.

Wednesday, 11 October 2017

One of the prevalent species this autumn has been that delightful little bird, the Phalarope. There have been plenty of sightings of Grey Phalarope around the country during the past couple of months, as well as decent numbers of Red-necked Phalarope.

Add to the list a showy Wilson's Phalarope at Oare Marshes, that is still present as I write this, and you may have easily have had the full set.

The first two were on my radar last month, when a Phalarope sp. turned up at Staines Reservoir on September 11.

The south basin at Staines Reservoir

The south basin at Staines Reservoir had been drained of water in the preceding weeks and
had certainly delivered the goods on the wader front once the
water levels had dropped. It made you aware of how many birds must fly
over the area but decide to continue their journey rather than dropping
in to a not-so-enticing habitat.

But now the environment was intoxicating, both for birds and birders.

The Phalarope appeared on the south basin, where it joined a Pectoral Sandpiper, 4 juvenile Curlew Sandpiper, 4 Knot, 3 Black-tailed Godwit, a Sanderling, a Ruff, plus plentiful numbers of Dunlin and Ringed Plover.

But swimming happily at the far end of the basin, at the time of its arrival it was unclear which of the two, Grey or Red-necked, it was. The consensus was perhaps a Red-necked. That was certainly my hope. It was be a lifer if it was.

And that uncertainty was still the case when I arrived along the causeway the next day, for the first time since the three white-winged Black Tern earlier in the year at "The Res".

It was great to see a familiar pair of faces as I arrived, "Captain" Bob Warden and Dave Carlsson were there that morning, and Bob immediately put me on to the Phalarope, happily bobbing away in the distance.

Ruff at Staines Reservoir

The south basin was full of waders. No Pectoral Sandpiper, and the pair of Knot went missing too, but there were numerous Dunlin and Ringed Plover, a couple of Greenshank, at least five Ruff, and the same number of Curlew Sandpiper. A great sight.

Dunlin and Curlew Sandpipers at Staines Reservoir

Bob had a Merlin fly through about half an hour earlier, and as more birders arrived, the debate got more prolonged as to to the id of this Phalarope. It meandered both ways and in the end the consensus was it was a Grey – which, while nice to see, was a tad disappointing from my viewpoint!

To cut a long debate short, however, the bird gradually migrated closer to the causeway over the next couple of days, and its id was confirmed to be a Red-necked Phalarope. Celebrations all round!
A few days later a Grey Phalarope actually did turn up on the north basin.

Fast-forward more than three weeks to October 3 and the long-staying Long-billed Dowitcher at Oare Marshes was joined by another rare American vagrant – a Wilson's Phalarope. I had only seen one before, and that was at Vange Marshes and was very distant, so last Sunday was a welcome opportunity for a closer view.

Long-billed Dowitcher with Lapwing on the East Flood

I have been to Oare and Dungeness more than any other site this year – I really like both places. Oare is nice and easy to get to, it's compact, viewing is excellent and there is always something to see. Like this Wilson's Phalarope.

The Wilson's Phalarope at Oare Marshes

It didn't let me down either. It performed very well, including its trademark spinning while feeding. The Long-billed Dowitcher also showed well, as did a couple of Little Stint.

Little Stint on the East Flood

All the birds went up into the air when a Peregrine paid a visit for a hopeful meal, which was an opportune moment to head back home for a decent Sunday roast.

Thursday, 21 September 2017

Not long after clocking the Baird's Sandpiper, I visited Dungeness a week later for an enjoyable morning's birding. Dungeness has been one of my favourite haunts this year and when a Wryneck was seen in the Desert area near the observatory I couldn't resist giving it a go.

It was beautiful morning, and was able to take a leisurely walk over the shingle to the patch of gorse scrub where the Wryneck had been seen before I arrived.

On the walk there I saw three Whinchat, always good to see, before scrambling across the shingle towards the gorse where another local birder was peering into the vegetation from a distance with his camera and big lens.

Whinchat on the gorse near the observatory

The Wryneck was skulking around deep in the undergrowth, but after about 45 minutes once a group including Martin Casemore had venture elsewhere,another local birder and myself hung around long enough for it to appear again. I spotted the Wryneck briefly on a branch before it dropped back into the fauna.

The Wryneck at first appeared fleetingly for one photo

While we waited an Osprey that had stuck around the reserve for a few days could be seen in flying around in the distance before it dived down out of view, probably with a fish in its sights.

The Wryneck stayed hidden for another 20 minutes before it eventually came out to feed behind some twigs for a few minutes. Such a fabulous bird, one of my absolute favourites, although clear views were at a premium.

The Wryneck liked to play hard to get

Once it decided to fly back deeper into the scrub I opted to head back to the car and drive over to the reserve. Once there I caught up with four Great White Egret while over at the Denge Marsh hide I had another fleeting view of the Osprey. Also there were a couple of Ruff and a Spoonbill, but I dipped a pair of Cattle Egret.

Three of the four Great White Egret

A Great Crested Grebe gets a close-up view of a Spoonbill coming in to land

The Spoonbill at Denge Marsh – and not asleep

Soon after midday the weather turned, the wind picked up and the rain began to fall, so it was time the head back home. Overall, however, a decent morning

Thursday, 14 September 2017

It has taken my a while to get to this landmark, but having crept towards it for some months I finally got there with the Baird's Sandpiper at Cuckmere Haven two weeks ago.

It was a nice bird to get to the magic number, and was easy to see, with only a short walk. It was also made enjoyable by the company – birding mate Matt Phelps arrived at the same time as me and so it was good to catch up with him, as it was with Paul Cox, someone I'd not seen since the Red-backed Shrike at Hayes in 2012!

Baird's Sandpiper at Cuckmere Haven

And if there is one thing about birding I enjoy as much as the bird watching itself is having banter with a few mates while doing it. I don't get out as much these days, so it was a welcome distraction from everyday life.

A much better photo of the Baird's Sandpiper digiscoped by Matt Phelps

So the Baird's Sandpiper wandered about a bit, fed a bit, rested a bit. It was a tad distant for decent photos but not to worry.

So, looking back at the 300 bird species seen over the years I was daydreaming earlier today and thought I'd list my favourite birds in that list.

The birds that were the biggest pain in the arse to see were:
Baillion's Crake at Rainham, Hudsonian Whimbrel at Church Norton (may not even be relevant now either), Marsh Warbler at Rainham Marshes.

The most fleeting and therefore least satisfying birds to see were:
Ortolan Bunting at Beachy Head
Purple Heron at Lodmoor

Next comes the birds still missing from the list I should have seen by now. No excuses. Anyway, here's my list of shame:
Cirl Bunting, Honey-buzzard, Pink-footed Goose, Puffin, Purple Sandpiper, Storm Petrel, Willow Tit, Yellow-browed Warbler. Plus all the Scottish birds (not traveled there since 1972). There you go, I've said it now!

Monday, 4 September 2017

Annie and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary last Tuesday and because it was a landmark day and not being the big party-types I arranged for us to stay at La Grenouillere, near Montreuil-sur-Mer, about 10 miles inland from Le Touquet.

La Grenouilerre is something out of the ordinary. For one thing the decor has a particular theme – frogs. There's frogs on frescos in the anti-room, plus a prominent scultpure in the garden. There is an obvious reason – if you speak French at least – as a grenouillere is a swamp where frogs live (or something like that).

The pathway from the restaurant to our accomodation

View from the cabin

It has two Michelin stars and is run by one of France's best and most innovative chefs, Alexandre Gauthier. Gauthier is renowned for focusing on nature, his menu features imaginative ingredients from the surrounding countryside. And he loves pepper. Pepper is often a feature – including in ice.

Set in the Canche river valley below the walled town of Montreuil, there are a number of guest rooms and cabins on site, one of which we booked for two nights. These cabins are set deep into the unspoilt grounds, and you feel genuinely at one with nature in amongst the shrubbery. It is peaceful, tranquil and the perfect environment to relax.

The kitchen of Alexandre Gauthier

It also helped that we timed our two-night visit for the two hottest days of August. Perfect.

La Grenoulliere features two striking metallic marquees that extend out into the garden from the century-old main buildings, and were designed by architect Patrick Bouchain. This radical juxtaposition of old and new is in keeping with the cuisine.

The restaurant

Sea Bream - one of the tasting highlights

The restaurant, from which you can watch Gauthier and his team prepare the dishes, serves a radical
cuisine in a minimalist, spacious environment with just a few tables. It a very relaxed place to eat. Nothing here is austere – feel free to wear jeans if you want – this is a place to enjoy excellent food.

The dessert wine is served

We went for the eight-course tasting menu with accompanying wines (decent sized glasses they were too! The honey-based dessert wine came in a huge glass bowl and the wine was siphoned into a large pipette before being served). The food was amazing. It including melon and langoustine, sea bream, a river fish (a poisonous one), courgette prepared in a way that is remarkable, crab, chicken with verveine, we also had additional mushrooms picked that day in the surrounding woodland, plus honeycomb, strawberries and rhubarb like I've never tasted before.

And in between we tasted all manner of interesting delicate sensory delights including samphire, a flower that tasted of truffle, quail eggs, apricot mousse in a casing that dissolved in the mouth, all subtle but fascinating. The courses were small but even I was full by the end of the meal.

So we ate well and drank fabulous wine.

And I saw a Honey-buzzard.

Honey-buzzard!

On the first day, as we chilled out in the late afternoon sun outside the cabin, I noticed a large bird being mobbed by Swallows and House Martins. At first glance, as it flew behind a tree, I thought it was a heron as it had large wings. I managed to get my bins on to it and immediately could see it was a buzzard. It looked different, and when it called it didn't sound like a Common Buzzard.

Having been to this area a couple of months earlier and drawn a blank with Honey-buzzard, I was really hoping this would be one, as despite being birding for some years now I have never seen one.

Looking at it closely I felt 80 per cent confident, but I've made mistakes before. I managed a few record shots, but only after I was forced to switch off the autofocus which had frustratingly decided not to work.

As it drifted off I looked at the images on the camera – I was still not 100 per cent sure, and it was only after getting home and blowing up the images that I become more confident. The two bands on the tail and the general jizz pretty much nailed it for me, but to be certain I sent the images to David Campbell to check for me. And thankfully, he immediately replied and confirmed that it was, indeed, a Honey-buzzard

Saturday, 19 August 2017

Well, I've had another couple of birding sojourns this month, both at Oare Marshes. But before discussing the sightings there, I'd like to refer back to the previous post.

I joyfully described viewing a first Wood Sandpiper on the local patch, when in fact it was a juvenile Green Sandpiper. This bird had been spotted the day before by Gordon Hay and I'd been sent a voicemail message to explain where the bird was. What I didn't listen to was another message about an hour later from Gordon to say this wader was misidentified.

Predictably, I went along and found the juvenile bird and convinced myself this was, in fact, something else. This is a trait I'm sure (or hope, at least) the majority of birders fall into from time to time.

I've always accepted birding requires a high level of skill, particularly with identifying species, and I have to admit, while enjoying the pastime, bird id – which is quite fundamental to the hobby – isn't one of my strengths. And if you don't go birding that often, like with anything in life that requires skill – no matter how good or bad you are – you will only improve with practice.

As result, I cock up now and again. It has happened before. Last year I convinced myself I was watching an Arctic Tern feeding over Spynes Mere, when in fact it was a Common. This, I suppose, is forgivable to an extent, but I've mistook all manner of birds over the years, some of which I have no enthusiasm to relive here.

Anyway, we move on, tail between legs. Or actually not. As the rest of this post will explain.

I like Oare Marshes, mainly because these days I'm a lazy birder and can't be arsed to walk far. And at Oare, if you feel that way inclined, you don't have to walk at all. Which was exactly my state of mind on the 7th (my birthday). I only intended to stay for the morning before heading back home, but ended up extending the visit for an extra couple of hours.

I parked the car on the lane alongside the East Flood, and that is where I stayed for the next four and half hours.

Busy at Oare Marshes

So what did I see? Plenty of waders, including the usual suspects, as well a Spotted Redshank, a Little Stint and a Curlew Sandpiper. I also saw a Turtle Dove as soon as I arrived. This added to the pair I enjoyed at the end of May, photos of which I have added below.

Two Turtle Dove at Oare Marshes in May

What I didn't see, however, was the Bonaparte's Gull. Hard as I tried, I just couldn't find it – but then nor did anyone else who was visiting at the same time as me. I also didn't see a Roseate Tern that a few surrounding me had convinced themselves they were looking at and walked away happy with their find. I was desperately hoping it was one, but in the end it was a juvenile Common Tern – as was the adult bird close by, and not an Arctic as some suggested.

Also some thought the Little Stint was a Dunlin, but having seen quite a few I knew what this was. Birding is a bloody obstacle course. It certainly was on that day.

Long-billed Dowitcher at Oare

Sixteen Whimbrel

Then last Monday, on the way back from taking my mum for a hospital appointment in Margate, I dropped in at Oare again on the way home. Another Bonaparte's dip took place, but at least I got decent look of the Long-billed Dowitcher, 16 Whimbrel, as well as some really nice views of a Yellow Wagtail. Misidentifying one of those really would be a skill.